Sword Edge
by Catmint
Summary: Will Turner's world has fallen apart. Everything has gone completely wrong and he is completely lost. Norrington wants some swords and decides to find the one person who may be able to help. Rated for references to suicide. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Sword Edge

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Disclaimer: not mine. Belong to Disney. Am only temporarily borrowing them, and then I shall return them to the Caribbean in time for the sequel (YAY!!!)

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A/N: apologies if anyone seems out of character – this is my first PotC fic. Particularly Jack, who is incredibly hard to write, as he's such a visual person.

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Chapter 1

"Those swords will never be ready on time," Commodore Norrington informed Governor Swann. "I don't believe Turner has even started on them yet."

I am inclined to agree," replied the Governor, sighing. "One cannot really blame the boy, though. I lost my wife in childbirth, and now I have lost my daughter to the same fate. At least the child survived."

"And sees more of his grandfather and his nurse than of his father."

Swann nodded sadly. "Indeed. And I know not how to reach him. He is too lost in his despair and grief to heed me. He is not working as much as he would appear to be doing to most. He holes himself up in that smithy but frequently does no work – and when he does, the quality of his products is not as high as it used to be. I fear for him – if this continues, the people of Port Royal will soon begin to take their business elsewhere, and then Will will be unable to support his son. You know how proud he is, how determined he always was to prove that he could provide well enough for Elizabeth and any children they might have, without relying on myself." Another sigh. "I know not what I can do."

Norrington gazed out across the sea at the ships that came and went to and from the Caribbean port. He was beginning to get the glimmering of an idea. Not that he liked the way his mind was going. But Will Turner's grief was causing the Governor great worry – and besides, there was that order of swords that was waiting. He took a deep breath. "There…er…is _one_ possibility," he said eventually.

The Governor turned to him, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "There is? What?"

The Commodore could not look at him. "Jack Sparrow."

Swann blinked. "You mean _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

Norrington resisted the urge to roll his eyes – it would be an action most inappropriate and juvenile for one of his rank. "Of course."

"What makes you think he would come? After all, you and he are hardly close friends."

"I have no idea whether or not he would come. It's worth a try, though. I need those swords, and soon." He glanced down at the dock below him, where a lonely-looking figure with curly dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail sat, gazing into the water.

"How do you intend to find Sparrow?"

"Were I a gambling man, I would put money on him being in Tortuga. It is, after all, a pirate's paradise." He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of the place.

"I bid you good luck, then."

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A few days later, Norrington found himself arriving in Tortuga. The appearance of the place did nothing to improve its reputation, and he struggled to prevent himself from wrinkling his nose in sheer disgust as his ship sailed into the dock. Idly, he scanned the ships that were already moored there, searching for Sparrow's ship, the _Black Pearl_. Seeing nothing, he wondered if perhaps Sparrow was not here after all. If he was not, the Commodore hoped that someone here would be able to enlighten him as to where the pirate was. It had been four years since Sparrow's somewhat unusual (but typical) departure from Port Royal. Three years since Will and Elizabeth had married.

One year since Elizabeth's death.

Norrington swallowed hard. He had grieved when she had died. Shortly after her acceptance of Will Turner's proposal of marriage, she had introduced Norrington to her close friend Anne, and the Commodore had fallen. Hard. He and Anne had been married six months now.

"Sir? What do you want us to do?"

Norrington snapped out of his thoughts and focused on Johnson. "All the crew are to remain here. You and I alone will search for Sparrow."

"Yes, sir."

A short while later, the two were taking their first steps in Tortuga. It was no better than when Norrington had viewed it from afar. In fact, it was worse. He felt very out of place here, even though he had changed out of his British Navy clothing (he did value his life, after all). Foul smells assaulted his nose, shrieks and uncouth shouts hit his ears, and the sights…Well, the less said about _those_, the better. He averted his gaze and instead concentrated on walking down the street, intent on finding someone who knew of Sparrow – or, better yet, Sparrow himself. Of course, in a place such as Tortuga, it could prove somewhat difficult and lengthy.

He racked his brains in an attempt to recall everything he had ever heard Sparrow say (most of it being apparent nonsense), just in case it yielded the merest scrap of information. The name of a tavern, a particular mooring-place…anything.

A female voice caught his attention. A female voice that he had heard before, that had a Deep South drawl to it. What was the girl's name? Alison? Marie? _No; neither of those_.

Anamaria. _That_ was it. One of Sparrow's odd, mismatched crew. Norrington turned in the street, Johnson close behind, and walked towards the girl, who was standing in the street talking to some men who were, in all likelihood, pirates. "Excuse me."

Anamaria looked up. "Whatcha want?" she demanded fiercely. Then she frowned. "Hey, I know you. You're that high-up guy that tried to get Jack hung, intcha?"

"Do you know where I might find Sparrow?" Norrington did not want to waste time if it was at all possible.

"Whatcha want 'im for?"

"It's regarding William Turner. Where is Sparrow?"

"What about Will Turner?"

"That is between myself and Sparrow."

"You forgot the 'Captain', Commodore."

Norrington turned at the new voice – and came face-to-face with the very man he was searching for. "My apologies, _Captain_." He could not quite keep the sneer from his voice.

"So what can I do for a fine gentleman such as yourself?" Sparrow reached up with one ring-adorned hand and adjusted his three-cornered hat.

"It concerns William Turner and his late wife."

Sparrow blinked at him, tilting his head to one side. "Late? What 'appened to her?"

"She died. A year ago. Complications from childbirth."

"Oh. That _is_ sad news." Sparrow held up his hands, a perplexed expression on his sun-darkened face. "I don't see how that affects _my_ good self, though, Commodore. Savvy?"

"And there I was, thinking you might feel some twinge of loyalty," said Norrington scathingly.

Sparrow held up a finger. "You're forgettin' one thing, though, mate. Pirates ain't loyal. Leastways, not to non-pirates and those that are not part of their own crew. Young William is no pirate. Least, he ain't now. He chose to be a nice, respectable, ordinary blacksmith – although I personally would say he was rather above ordinary in regards to the quality of his fine swords – and settle down, get married, have a family. Like yeh do. Savvy?"

"I am _not_ your 'mate', Sparrow."

"_Captain_ Sparrow," muttered Jack irritably under his breath, in much the same manner he had done just before he had been due to hang in Port Royal, just loud enough for the Commodore to hear. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

Norrington chose to ignore this. "Turner is still grieving for Elizabeth. It's affecting his work – I am waiting for some swords but I rather doubt that I will have them in time – and he barely sees his child."

Jack shrugged elaborately, hands in the air, rocking back slightly on his heels. He gestured to himself. "I'm still not seein' where _I _come into this – and I ain't got all day. Things to do, people to see. Yeh get me? I'd say it would appear to be the same for you, but as _you've_ already made it perfectly clear that _I _am the one that you're here to see, it would be safe to assume that fine men of the British Navy such as yehselves have nothin' else to do here in Tortuga. _I_, on the other hand, _have _got things to do."

"I don't wish to see Turner do anything rash or stupid."

Jack snorted disbelievingly. "The son of Bootstrap Bill could make a career out of doin' stupid things."

Norrington was getting impatient. "I fear that Turner may attempt to take his own life."

"That would be _very_ sad," mused Jack. "Very sad indeed. But you, mate, 'ave not explained why you have come to _me_."

"He just may listen to you. You're our only hope, _Captain_ Sparrow."

"But what's in it for _me_?" inquired Jack. "You get your swords, the kid gets 'is daddy back, but I set foot in Port Royal and I am a dead man. How do _I _benefit from this? I'm a pirate; we don't do somethin' if there's no profit in it for _us_. Savvy?"

Norrington was beginning to get heartily sick of that word. And now they had reached his least favourite part of the plan. "I can pay you. Quite handsomely, too."

"_Pay_ me? _You_ are going to pay _me_." Sparrow stared at him, gesturing at him with the rum bottle that was clasped firmly in his left hand, and then back at himself, to emphasise the stressed words. "But payin' me is _not_ goin' to stop your little soldiers in their red tunics from shootin' me dead, now, is it?"

Norrington exchanged looks with Johnson. How did he know he was going to lose this battle? "What _do_ you want, then?" he asked defeatedly.

"If I'm goin' to help young William, I've got to know your men in red ain't gonna kill me. Savvy?"

Norrington sighed. "Fine, fine. Whilst in Port Royal, you will be safe from arrest or apprehension by my soldiers – _if_ you obey the law and do not steal, assault, pillage –"

"Yes yes _yes,_ I get the idea," Sparrow interrupted impatiently with a wave of his rum bottle. "You do not need to give me every last detail. Alright, I'll come. It'll take a few days, though. Can't sail the _Pearl_ all by me onesies. Crew'll be a bit annoyed, but it's for a good cause, so it's tough if they don't like it. I'm their captain."

"Oh, one other thing – it will be the first anniversary of Elizabeth's death in eight days."

"Right. Just remember – I'm doin' this for William. Not you."

"I would never have thought that you _would_ do it for me."

"We have an accord, then?"

Norrington nodded.

Sparrow offered his hand and Norrington reluctantly took it, shaking it for as short a time as possible. Sparrow withdrew his hand. "I promise that I shall be there." He turned to the black girl. "Come, Anamaria, and let us track down the rest of my faithful crew."

Norrington watched them go, Sparrow with his trademark swaying amble born from lengthy spells at sea on ships – and a lot of rum. He turned to Johnson. "Let's go. He'll come."

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TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Sword Edge

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the movie soundtrack

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A/N: There's a very small reference to _Lord of the Rings_ here – but if you haven't read the book, you're unlikely to spot it!!! cackles evilly

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A/N 2: I'm not happy with ; _I can't have my stars and squiggles!!!!!!!!!!!!_

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A/N 3: updates will be every Saturday. I wish they could be more frequent, but I'm on placement during the week with no Internet access, so I'll be posting on Saturdays. There are 5 chapters in total.

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Thanks to:

Lilith11: I do my best to keep everyone in character; thanks!

Lucidity: I couldn't resist the urge to have Norrington having to go to Jack for help!!

The Bonnie Pirate Lass: Wow! That was a great review! Have some chocolate!!

MagickalStar135: Glad to know I've got someone else into PotC fics!!

Raphe1: Norrington's coldness is just a front; he just doesn't want to show that he cares about Will (and he does, honest!) And Jack would get arrested if he simply strolled into Port Royal one morning without warning. He'd turn up anyway, but if he gets Norrington to agree to his being there, he'll be more use than if he's in prison awaiting his hanging.

Prettybadwriter: 'do not lose these' – I'm a tad confused as to what you mean by this! I'll take it as a compliment in the meantime, though!

Koretta: How can _anyone_ pass up the opportunity to have Norrington sucking up to Jack?! There's lots of "emotional material" to come yet.

Diedbysuicide, Lord Elrond of Hogwarts, becca – thankyou as well!!! Please continue to read and review!

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Chapter 2

The sword sat in the fire, but Will Turner couldn't bring himself to work on it. He knew he should; there was that important order for Norrington, as well as several others. It was just too much effort for him, though. What was the point? What was the point of anything any more? He'd only had three years with Elizabeth, and only two of those had included their marriage. Why did she have to die? What had he done in life to deserve this? He had barely known his father (and Jack had never been very forthcoming with information) and his mother had died when he had been a child.

And now Elizabeth had been taken from him. Will could barely look at his son; he was a painful reminder of what Will had lost. He knew he shouldn't be like this, but he couldn't help it.

His gaze came to rest on one of his swords. It wasn't the first time he'd considered ending his pain once and for all. Why not? It would mean that he would get to see Elizabeth again. Almost as if in a dream, he reached out for a sword, hand resting on the cold handle before he pulled it out from the rack.

"I do hope you're not plannin' on usin' that on an old friend," someone commented from behind him.

Will jumped and spun round, the sword clattering from his hand. "No," he replied dully. "Not on old friends – nor on pirates."

The newcomer blinked confusedly. "You've certainly changed your tune, young William. Wasn't so long ago I recall havin' the blade of one of your fine weapons under my chin and hearin' you inform my good self that you practised three hours a day with your aforementioned fine weapons so that – and I quote – 'when I meet a pirate, I can kill it'." The three-cornered hat was removed and placed on a nearby hook. "I _am_ sorry to 'ear that. I was anticipatin' a good duel with your good self again. For old times' sake. Savvy?" He approached the blacksmith.

"Things change," replied Will shortly. "Now, if you don't mind, I was busy."

"Busy doin' what? Thinkin' of how to end your life? Plannin' on runnin' yourself through with one of your fine weapons?" He bent down and picked up the sword Will had dropped, examining it closely. "I'm no blacksmith, but these are truly fine weapons." He placed it almost reverently back in the rack. "They deserve far better than to be used to end their creator's life, wouldn't you agree?"

Will shrugged wearily. "I don't know what you're doing here in Port Royal, Jack, but if Commodore Norrington gets wind of your presence –"

"'Tis Commodore Norrington that found me in Tortuga exactly one week ago," Jack informed him. "Came specially, he did. Just to find my good self."

"Why would he go looking for you?"

"That is between meself and the Commodore. All _you_ need to know is that I am not a wanted man in this lovely town at the moment. I am here with the good Commodore's permission."

Will considered enquiring further, but couldn't be bothered; this was Jack, after all.

Jack nodded in the direction of where the old blacksmith, Mr. Brown, had been slumped the last time he had been here. "Where's your boss?"

"Died two years ago." Will glanced pointedly at the bottle of rum in the pirate's hand. "Too much drink."

Jack, being Jack, chose to ignore this. "Not the only one to 'ave passed recently, or so I'm reliably informed."

Will stiffened and his brown eyes darkened. "Perhaps."

"Oooh. Touched a nerve, have I?" He looked directly at Will.

Will stared stonily back. "Why are you here, Jack?"

"Because," replied the pirate, "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"That isn't an answer. Tell me why you're _really_ here, and why on God's Earth you have Norrington's permission to be here."

Jack tilted his head to one side and regarded the blacksmith carefully, taking in his dull, shadowed eyes, black smudges under them that were clear indicators of a lack of sleep, his pale, drawn face and his thin frame. Bootstrap Bill's son had been merely slim when Jack had first encountered him in this very place four years ago, but now he was actually thin. Jack was a pirate, not a doctor, but even he knew when a person was blatantly too thin. "You and I, mate, are findin' ourselves a nice respectable tavern, enjoyin' a drink – or five – and catchin' up on things. Long time no see, as they say." He picked up his hat and placed it on his head with a flourish. "Come on."

"But the smithy –"

"Can wait a bit. You don't exactly seem to be doin' much work – or at least, you weren't when I walked in. You could've been stabbed in the back by someone less scrupulous than meself and I doubt you'd've noticed."

"Then they'd have done me a favour," muttered Will, not intending Jack to overhear. Jack, however, did, and he frowned in concern and worry. Contrary to popular opinion (or unpopular, depending on whose opinion it was), Jack _did _care about people, and Bootstrap Bill's boy was one he cared about deeply. Deciding against saying anything on this matter, as he clearly wasn't meant to have heard those words, Jack slung his arm around Will's shoulders and gently coaxed him along. "The tavern, William."

"Jack, don't. Please." Will pulled free and strapped a sword to his side. Jack's definition of 'respectable' differed rather significantly from Will's.

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They found themselves in _The Green Dragon_, not far from the smithy. Will relaxed; the _Dragon_ fitted _his_ definition of 'respectable' rather than Jack's, and he was rather glad of it. They sat down in a darkish corner after obtaining some rum for Jack and an ale for Will. Jack set his hat on the table. "Well, we have arrived," he proclaimed.

"What's been happening with the _Pearl_?" asked Will, more from politeness than any interest in life.

"Things are good. Very good indeed."

Will waited, but it was clear that Jack was leaving it at that. "Glad to hear it. I think," he added, muttering the last part under his breath.

"I have been informed," said Jack softly, "of the passin' of Elizabeth."

Will flinched and drew back into his seat, head bowed, eyes squeezed shut to keep back the rising tears. He did _not_ want to cry. Not in public, and _certainly _not in front of Jack.

"I was also informed," continued the pirate, "that you have a son." His usual flamboyant, swaying, seemingly drunk manner had been dropped and only the remnants of it were noticeable now.

Will clenched his fists. "And do you know _how_ Elizabeth…?"

Jack nodded calmly. "Aye. I do. Now you listen to me, William Turner, and you listen good. You'll get nothin' but trouble if you blame that poor mite for Elizabeth's death."

Will flinched again. "Shut up, Jack," he whispered.

Jack shook his head firmly, beads clinking together. "I'm not goin' to do that, William. Your bonny lass is dead. Gone. Won't come back. Ever."

"_Stop it!_" hissed Will furiously.

"You need to accept that she's dead." Jack paused, thinking. "Go on. Say it."

"Say what?"

"Say, 'Elizabeth is dead'."

Will shook his head firmly. "_No_."

"The pain is _not_ going to stop if you don't accept that Elizabeth is dead." The words seemed alien on Jack's tongue, but he pressed ahead. If _he_ couldn't force himself to say them, however hard it might be, he'd never be able to convince Will to do so.

"At least if I have the pain I can't forget her."

Comprehension dawned on Jack, and he nodded slowly. "I can see where you're comin' from, William, but there are other ways to remember her without sufferin' like you're doin' at the moment."

Silence from Will.

"What did I just tell you? You can't blame your son for this. _Yes_, it's sad, _yes_, it's a tragedy, but that child needs 'is father." Jack paused, one ringed finger placed contemplatively on his chin as he frowned. "Nobody's been courteous enough to inform me of your boy's name. I find that highly insultin' – provided he _has_ a name, of course."

Will sighed heavily. "He's called Jack. Jack William Turner. The Commodore is his godfather."

Jack blinked, arching one dark eyebrow. "Nice name. Named for anyone you know, perchance?"

He got no response, so he downed the rest of his rum. "How often do you see 'im?"

Will shrugged.

Jack decided – after ordering more rum – that a different angle was required. "Tell me how you felt not knowing your father, old Bootstrap."

Will blinked confusedly. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Only if you'll tell me about him."

"We have an accord."

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TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Sword Edge

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the movie soundtrack

Thanks to:

Lilith11: What? I really don't understand that review!! (Thanks anyway!!)

The Bonnie Pirate Lass: Spooky indeed!! I endeavour to keep everyone in character. Let me know when you post your fic!

Lord Elrond of Hogwarts: I couldn't have Will and Elizabeth call their son anything else, now, could I?!

Koretta: 'Captain Heartmender Sparrow' first struck when he managed to bring Will and Elizabeth together in the movie!! Please enlighten me on the salt-in-cookie-dough thing – I'm intrigued!!

The devil 666: I'm keeping writing! Here's the next instalment!

Lucidity: You'll find out where little Jack is; all in good time!

Diedbysuicide: It's all written; it's just the posting that has to be done!

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Chapter 3

Will, stalling, drank some of his ale and then stared into said drink. "I wish I'd known him. My mother rarely spoke of him. Everyone else I knew back in England knew their fathers. I felt as though something was missing, some part of me. I was jealous of the others because they all had something that I should have had as well, but didn't." He shrugged. "That's about it."

"Did it hurt in yer heart at all?"

Will, unthinking, nodded. "All the time."

"That's how your Jack will feel if you carry on like this," Jack informed him knowledgeably.

"How would _you_ of all people know that?" Will challenged.

"I rather doubt you know my life 'istory," Jack pointed out slightly sharply. He sighed and took a swig of his rum. "I ain't no expert on fam'ly matters, but I _do_ know what I'm talkin' about, mate. _You_ know what it's like to not know your father; do you really want your Jack to go through the same thing? 'Specially with his mother dead an' all."

"But I can't –"

"Ain't no such word as 'can't', William."

"That's easy for you to say."

Jack raised his hands and shook his head. "Yeh're wrong there, mate. _Very_ wrong indeed. But that is not the point. The point _is_, that boy of yours lost 'is mother. He needs _you_ more than ever. Which is _not_ going to 'appen if you either end your life – which would be rash and stupid, as well as a terrible tragedy and a waste of life – or continue to live in this current state of complete and utter misery. Neither of which are particularly healthy." The pirate shrugged, almost embarrassed. "Besides, I care about yeh too much to let yer grief get the better of you. I cared about Elizabeth for you, and I care about that boy of yours, purely because he's _your_ son. I don't normally let my good self care too much about people – they're always gettin' themselves captured and so on – but I cared about your father, and there's somethin' about you that makes me care about you as well."

Will narrowed his eyes. "Did Norrington put you up to this?"

"Commodore Norrington wants those swords he ordered, and other people want things as well. If you don't start gettin' yer onesies sorted, you'll lose business. People are _not_ goin' to use a poor-quality, unreliable blacksmith. _Then_ how do you plan to support Jack, eh? The Commodore _is _worried about you, William, even if he ain't too good at showin' it."

"If you care so much about me, how come I haven't heard from you for four years?" demanded the blacksmith.

Jack sighed. "It's difficult, William. I tried; I really did. The thing is, I'm a wanted man here in Port Royal, and I don't exactly blend in with the locals, now, do I?"

"True," conceded Will wryly.

"It would be dangerous for me to pass on a message by word of mouth, and _those_ inevitably get changed – Chinese whispers, if you will. As for writin' – I'm not the world's most literate man, and if letters fall into the wrong 'ands…I really don't think I need to inform you of the consequences of _that_. Savvy?"

Reluctantly, Will nodded. Jack was right; it _was_ difficult for him to get messages through. A small part at the back of his mind still niggled, though._ He didn't try hard enough; if he'd _really_ wanted to contact you, he'd have managed – he _is_ Captain Jack Sparrow, after all._

"I missed you two, mind. A lot. And I _am_ glad to be seein' yeh, William. Pity about the circumstances." He took another swig of rum. "Elizabeth was a lovely girl – 'part from when she burned the rum, of course. Never could understand why anyone would want to waste such large amounts of a beautiful drink.

"You've got plenty of good memories in that 'ead of yours, William, I'm sure. Cherish those. Honour her life like that. Livin' the way you're doin' right now – it ain't the way to do it. And I doubt she'd want you doin' it, either. She was too full of life to dwell on the past."

"Easy for _you_ to say," muttered Will.

"No, mate, it ain't. But I know what I'm talkin' about. And I know you better than yeh think I do."

The landlord, noticing the empty drinks, approached the two. "Can I get you some more to drink, gentlemen?"

Jack shook his head. "Happy as I would be to spend the rest of my day here in this quality establishment – and I assure you, it _is_ quality – unfortunately we have other things that need to be done." He placed his hat on his head with his usual flourish as he stood, motioning to a confused-looking Will. "Come, young William. Landlord, I bid you a good day. Many thanks for your fine rum. I shall remember this tavern." He bowed in his usual, overexaggerated manner and ambled out of _The Green Dragon_. Once outside, the amble became a fast walk. Will had to jog to keep up with the pirate. "Where are we going, Jack?"

"Smithy."

"But we left that to go to the _Dragon_. Why are we going back there?"

"I want to see how yer footwork is."

"_What_?!"

"You are _not_ deaf, William. You 'eard me." Jack was not about to reveal his plan to Bootstrap Bill's son; were he to do so, it was virtually a foregone conclusion that Will would refuse. So he continued on his fast-paced journey, Will close behind but never quite managing to catch up. Arriving at the smithy, he sashayed in and plucked a nearby sword from the rack of completed weapons. Then he turned to Will. "Come on. Sword out."

Will blinked, then slowly, lethargically, drew his sword and readied himself.

Jack struck first. Will brought his sword up to block it, but did so only just in time. Jack wrenched his sword free and attacked. Again, Will only just blocked the stroke. Jack glared at him. "Are you not goin' to do _anythin'_, William?" he demanded. "If I really _were_ hell-bent on attackin' you, I'd've 'ad you dead by now!" Things were _not_ going to plan; Will was supposed to fight back!

Will shrugged disinterestedly and let his arm drop, sword clattering to the floor.

"_Damnit_, William Turner!" Jack yelled furiously, flinging the sword in his hand to one side. Will flinched. "You _ain't_ doin' yourself any favours by givin' up on life like this! Where's yer fight? Where's yer spirit?" Raising his voice, "Where's the William Turner that Elizabeth Swann fell in love with? Eh? Where is he? _Where is he_?"

"Don't, Jack," pleaded Will, dark eyes filling with tears as he backed away.

"_Why in blazes **not**_? Look at you, William! You're a wreck! A pathetic, useless _wreck_! What good are yeh to anyone like this? _Answer me_!"

Will, still backing away, tripped and fell backwards. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he curled up tightly, face buried in his knees as he fought back the tears of pain, grief and despair that were welling up.

Jack was beside him in an instant, kneeling beside him, hat on the floor and one rough, dirty hand on Will's shoulder. "Let yehself cry, lad," he said gently. "Let yehself grieve without anyone askin' any questions or starin'."

Will shook his head determinedly. He refused to give in to what he viewed as weakness.

Jack sighed wearily and placed his arms around Will, drawing him into a comforting embrace. It wasn't the first time he'd comforted anyone, and most likely wouldn't be the last, either. "Come on, lad. Let it all out. You'll feel better for it. Trust me." Still Will did not do so. Jack held him more tightly. "She was a great lass, William. It's a tragedy she's gone, I won't deny that. But she _won't ever come back_."

Will let out a half-strangled sob and gulped hard in a desperate effort to rid himself of the tears.

"Tell me about her. Tell me about your life together."

"It – it hurts, Jack," whispered Will.

"I know it does, lad, but talkin' about it will ease the pain in the long run. What's yer favourite memory of her?"

Will sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as possible, but it was too late – the tears had already begun to leak out of the corners of his eyes and dampen his dark eyelashes. "I – I don't know. There – there are so many…" His voice caught in his throat and his breath did likewise. "God, Jack, I miss her _so_ much. I can't believe that – that she's…" He shook his head and then the tears came, welling up and spilling over, cascading down his cheeks in torrents, his breath coming in gasps.

Jack held him tightly, gently rocking him to comfort him. Similar in age to Will's father, though a few years younger, Jack finally identified what it was that he felt towards the boy – fatherly affection and love.

That realisation almost caused him to laugh out loud. _Him_, Jack Sparrow – _Captain_ Jack Sparrow, that is – a father figure? The notion was ridiculously funny.

But true nonetheless, he thought to himself. Ever since he'd first met the boy, he'd felt an overwhelming desire to protect him, to look after him.

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TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Sword Edge

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the movie soundtrack

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A/N: WOW!! FIFTEEN REVIEWS for ONE CHAPTER!!! I don't think I've ever been that popular before!!! I think it's high time I put author thanks at the bottom of the story; they seem to go on for ever!!!! (Which is a good thing; I like reviews!!) I know you just want to get on with the story!!

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Chapter 4

It was a long time before Will's sobs subsided. Jack let him cry, knowing it was necessary. Jack himself wasn't one to weep over someone's death – even someone he cared a great deal about – but Will wasn't like him.

Eventually, the sobs subsided into sniffles, interspersed with quiet hiccups, and Will wiped at his eyes.

"Feelin' better?" inquired Jack gently, handing Will the handkerchief that had fallen from the blacksmith's pocket. Will took it, whispering, "Thanks."

"Has it 'elped?"

Will nodded briefly. "A bit, I suppose."

"So when do I get to meet me namesake?"

"He'll be at home at the moment."

"What are we waitin' for, then?" Jack placed his hat back on his head and got to his feet, hauling Will up as he did so. "Pick up that sword of yours that you seem so fond of and we shall depart from this smithy."

Will did as he was told, though his movements were slow and clumsy. He was drained, both physically and emotionally, from the crying. Jack, seeing this, slung an arm around his waist to support him. "Lead me to your elegant abode, William," he commanded authoritatively. "As your captain, that is a direct order."

"I'm not one of your crew, Jack," Will pointed out tiredly.

"Ah, but you're forgettin' that you _were_. Once a crew member of the _Black Pearl_, always a crew member of the _Black Pearl_."

Will declined to respond to that statement, instead leading the pirate to his home. It was nowhere near the size of the Governor's home, in which Elizabeth had spent many years, but it was attractive and big enough – bigger than anything Will had been used to – and he liked it (as had Elizabeth).

The Governor was sitting on the small lawn, playing with a small child. Will stopped abruptly, causing Jack to stumble. The pirate nodded at the child. "That your boy?"

Will nodded once, face impassive, unreadable.

Jack began walking over to the Governor. After a moment, Will reluctantly followed. The Governor looked as the two approached and his gaze settled on Jack. "Captain Sparrow," he stated.

Jack bowed elaborately. "Pleasure to be reacquaintin' me onesies with your good self, Guv'nor Swann."

"Yes, well," the Governor replied, looking somewhat unconvinced. "Should I ask how your ship is doing these days?"

"Much better now that the _rightful_ captain is in charge."

"We've had far less trouble from those of your ilk since you departed Port Royal."

Jack nodded, smiling knowledgeably. "That, my dear Guv'nor, is because the _Black Pearl_ is watchin' over your port. Bit like a guardian angel, 'cept the _Pearl_'s more a guardian ship – though she's an angel in _my_ eyes."

The Governor frowned. "But why would she do that?"

Jack sighed impatiently. "Surely yeh can't 'ave forgotten who captains the aforementioned beautiful ship that's the fastest in the Caribbean?"

"I know _you _captain her, but why? Why protect the very place that you would be arrested – and quite possibly killed – in, apart from on this one occasion, should you ever set foot in it?"

Jack sat down in his usual flamboyant manner and leaned in close to the Governor, lowering his voice. "Because there was somethin' about your daughter that made me care about her. Perhaps it was due to my savin' of 'er life. Same goes for young William. He's someone special. And I ain't sayin' that just 'cause I knew his father. He's important to me." Jack shrugged nonchalantly and leaned back again. "Besides, all those other pirate ships with loot – and, most importantly, lots of rum – all headin' for Port Royal? What pirate in 'is right mind would pass up a business opportunity such as that? Savvy?" He glanced up to where Will was still standing, a vague, unfocused look in his dark brown eyes. "Oi, William! There are other people here that might want your attention!"

"Da!"

This cry startled Jack (not that he would ever admit it), as he had momentarily forgotten about the presence of the small boy. "See? Jack wants your attention." He watched closely as Will knelt down and halfheartedly offered the nearby teddy bear to his son. He did no more than that, and Jack, sharp-eyed and observant as always, did not miss the pain in the young man's eyes.

Deciding that he had had enough, the pirate leaned across and gently tickled his namesake's stomach. Little Jack shrieked and dropped the teddy, making a noise that the pirate suspected was a baby equivalent of a giggle (not that Jack Sparrow had had many dealings with babies). The child hit the pirate's hand with his own small ones, a smile on his face. This served only to make the pirate tickle him more, and he shrieked and giggled until he began hiccuping. The pirate shot the Governor and Will a panicked look. The Governor smiled in amusement and picked up the child, quickly and easily soothing him.

Will stood up. "I have to get back to the smithy," he announced in what he hoped was a neutral tone. He couldn't bring himself to look at his father-in-law; it was another reminder of both Elizabeth and of his own failings as a father.

Jack caught the pain and hurt in Will's eyes and voice, and he was quick to his feet as the blacksmith began to walk quickly away. A few long strides and Jack had caught up with him, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to a stop. "Not so fast, mate."

Will attempted to pull his arm free, but the pirate merely gripped more tightly. "Let go of me, Jack!"

"Can't do that, mate. That boy of yours needs you."

"No he doesn't. He's got his grandfather. He doesn't need me. I can't look after him. I'm useless! I don't know what to do! Whenever he cries it's the nurse or his grandfather that comforts him; he won't quieten if it's me! I can't do anything right, Jack! I've failed him! I'm no father!"

Jack gripped both his shoulders and gave him a quick, firm, sharp shake. "You listen to me, William Turner! You are _not_ goin' to get things right first time! You're _goin'_ to make mistakes! It's not goin' to be easy! But you've got to _keep trying_! You think I was successful at first? I bloody well got meself captured and locked in the brig of the other ship for a week! You _have to keep workin' at it_! I _know_ you miss Elizabeth. I _know_ it hurts. But it'll only hurt more if you don't show your son that you love him and then a few years down the line he rejects and hates you! You _can_ do it, William! Show a little faith in yourself!"

Will shook his head hard, desperately fighting the rising tears. "No, Jack," he whispered. "I _can't_ do it. It hurts too much. I – I'm useless…"

Jack, realising that words were ineffective at this moment in time, put his arms around Will and drew him into a comforting embrace. Will did not put up a fight, something for which Jack was extremely grateful. The boy needed to know that someone cared for him and was able to comfort him. _If only someone had thought to inform me of Elizabeth's death sooner,_ thought the pirate angrily, _perhaps young William wouldn't be in the state he's in now._ Many questioned Jack's sanity, but _he_ knew that he was sane, and _his_ view of himself was the only one that mattered to him. He was also an excellent judge of character (usually), and he was fully aware that he knew Bootstrap Bill's son far better than the boy himself did. And Jack knew that Will Turner could be a wonderful father if he let himself do so.

"Will?"

Will pulled away from Jack's embrace and hurriedly wiped the tears from his eyes. "S-sir?"

"Don't go back to the smithy today. Norrington's swords can wait until tomorrow," said the Governor kindly. "You're needed here."

Will looked nervous and apprehensive. "But –"

"No buts, mate. Do as he says," Jack interrupted firmly, giving Will a gentle push.

The Governor carefully stood, little Jack in his arms, and handed him to Will. Will took him awkwardly and Jack flung his arms around his father's neck, tugging at his ponytail. The Governor turned to the pirate. "Won't you stay for a while, Jack?"

"I could do, I s'pose…"

The Governor leaned in close to Jack to avoid being overheard by his son-in-law. "I rather think that Will needs you around while he gets used to being a proper father. I haven't seen him cry over Elizabeth's death until today. Before now, he's been silent and withdrawn. Refused to speak of it. God knows I tried, but he just didn't want to know. I've been so worried about him…Recently, I've feared that he may attempt to take his own life." He sighed sadly.

"The Commodore said as much to me," replied Jack soberly, watching Will tentatively play with his son's small hand. "Don't blame 'im; the boy was a wreck when I found 'im earlier. I might 'ave talked some sense into 'im, though. He's lookin' a lot better."

"How long can you stay?"

Jack shrugged. "A week? Two? Not much more, mind. Can't be havin' the business sufferin'."

"I'm grateful that you can give us that much."

"Will Turner matters to me," replied the pirate softly.

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TBC

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**Thanks to:**

Lucidity: Jack's really hard to write (as I've said before), but it looks like I've made some people happy! I aim to please!!

Lilith11: Each to their own with regards to slash. I've only written a couple (neither of which I've posted, mainly because I've got too much other stuff on that's much better quality). I do read Jack/Will PotC slash, though – it's almost always really well-written. I don't do the explicit stuff, though. What's worse, though – someone I know once came across (for Harry Potter): Dobby/Mrs. Norris romance. Seriously.

The Bonnie Pirate Lass: Oh, I hate it when floppies misbehave! I nearly had to rewrite a chapter of Rain in Rivendell because I was saving straight to floppy (I was in the uni IT room at the time) and forgot to save to my hard drive when I got back to my room – and the wretched file got corrupted! Fortunately the wonderful guys in the IT Help room salvaged it. Seriously long review from you!! And the line you said you liked – I really liked it too!! I hope there are some more lines in this chapter that you really like.

Strangled lies: a new reviewer!! Yay! High praise indeed!! beams

Oneiriad: It's all written; it's just sitting on my computer waiting its turn to be posted. Glad you like!

Bluekrystal1: It's not all sad, promise! I rather liked the idea of Jack being a surrogate father to Will, as well. And you play badminton! I like you!!

Lord Elrond of Hogwarts: Glad you agree with me about Jack!

Riob: At which point does Jack remind you of Barbossa? Glad you like Norrington. And I've written you a letter, which I've given to my mother to post, so it should be arriving in Ecuador in the not-too-distant future!

Koretta: dutifully hands her the tissues

MagickalStar135: I agree with the "poor Will" statement; he's not exactly had an easy life.

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Also:

The devil 666, diedbysuicide, Lyn, EnglishMystic, banana nut muffin


	5. Epilogue

Sword Edge

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the movie soundtrack

A/N: well, this is the final chapter sniffle I've had a great time writing it and I've been astounded by the reviews I've got (46 to date, I think, for just 4 chapters). Author thanks are at the bottom. I don't think I've forgotten anyone; let me know if I have!!! Also, there are some really good fics in my Favourite Stories list that are to be recommended (bear in mind I've only just stumbled across the PotC fandom so I've only read a small number of fics so far).

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Chapter 5

Jack woke early the next day. He had found sleeping difficult, as it had not been accompanied by the gentle rocking of a ship on the ocean. It took him a moment to recall his surroundings.

Then the significance of the day hit him. Today was Jack Turner's first birthday.

Today was the first anniversary of Elizabeth Turner's death.

With that thought in mind, Jack stumbled out of bed (why did the floor have to be so bloody _still_?) and pulled on some basic clothes. He certainly didn't need his coat on inside. Far too warm for that.

He made his way to Will's room. The door was shut but he could still hear a child crying and Will desperately pleading with him to be quiet. Jack knocked loudly and then, getting no response, pushed the door open and stepped into the room. The curtains were still drawn, and the room was quite dark. Will, still in his nightclothes, stood holding his son in his arms, gently swaying (as he had frequently observed his father-in-law doing), but Jack would not be comforted. Will was silently crying himself from sheer frustration and despair.

Will, sensing the presence of another in the room (he had been too distracted to hear the pirate's knocking), turned. His son continued to cry loudly. "Help me, Jack!" he pleaded. "He's been crying for nigh on an hour and I can't get him to stop. I've done everything I can think of, but it's no good!"

"Maybe he knows what today is," suggested the pirate softly. "Maybe 'e knows somehow that a year ago today 'is mother passed from this world."

Will flinched, his dark brown eyes filling with pain once again.

"Try talkin' gently to 'im. Don't plead. 'Cordin' to your father, it's all to do with yer tone of voice, so he once told me. Low pitch and quiet, soft sounds. Soothes 'em."

Will nodded and did as he was advised. Within minutes, the small child was fast asleep. Will gave the pirate a grateful look as he laid little Jack down in his small bed, and then sat down on his own bed, shoulders slumped and head dropped. Jack sat down beside him and Will turned to him. "Why does everyone I care about die?"

Jack frowned, then looked affronted. "So yeh don't care about _me_?"

Will sighed. "I didn't mean _that_. It's just…my mother, my father, the people who I travelled over here from England with…and now Elizabeth. And how _you've_ stayed alive this long, I really don't know."

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate. Surely that's reason enough? Savvy?"

"Of course. How could I forget?" But the grin that normally greeted this pronouncement of Jack's was absent from Will's face. It was that that caused Jack to decide to not let Will out of his sight if at all possible that day. He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Your son's beautiful, William. Don't forget that. You've still got him."

"How – how long are you staying here?" asked Will.

"A week, maybe two. Depends on how you're doin'."

"What do you mean?"

Jack met Will's gaze seriously. "If I were to leave _right now_, I would bet the entire store of the _Pearl_'s rum – which is a _lot_ of rum, believe me, and as such, I would be loath to lose it through wagerin' – that you would at least come very close to attempting to take your own life. And that would be very tragic, William."

"Why do you always call me William? The Commodore generally calls me by my surname, and I'm Will to everyone else but you."

Jack shrugged. "I honestly 'ave no idea, mate."

"You said you'd tell me about my father," said Will abruptly. "You said we had an accord."

"So I did. Well, it'll take a goodly length of time, so I would advise you to make yourself look somewhat respectable. And get some breakfast into yeh; I don't reckon yeh've been lookin' after yehself properly on the food front for some time. Am I right?"

"Not been hungry," muttered Will.

"You get dressed and eat a proper breakfast, and _then_ I'll tell you about Bootstrap. We have an accord?"

Will nodded, and Jack headed downstairs. He was hungry.

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A week later, the mood in the Turner household had vastly improved. Anamaria had stopped by the day after little Jack's birthday, and the opinionated black girl had instantly fallen in love with the child. She had insisted that the nurse allow her to help look after him while Will was at work. Pirate Jack had teased her about getting broody. Anamaria had promptly snatched his rum bottle from him and stalked off, Jack Turner in her arms.

Will had shown a remarkable improvement in spirit, and the pirate captain was confident that, given time, all would be well with him. It hadn't taken the blacksmith long at all to adapt to the role of father; after the first couple of days (and a few prompts from his pirate friends) it had come naturally to him. He was still far from happy, but Jack Sparrow had given him hope.

Little Jack giggled as he knocked over the tower of bricks that Anamaria had built. It was early evening.

"Hey! I put a lotta work into that!" cried Anamaria in mock outrage. Jack merely grinned and clapped his hands. Will smiled and picked his son up, holding him tightly. "I think it's time that someone went to bed," he remarked softly. Kissing Jack's dark head (the boy already bore a striking resemblance to his father), he slipped out of the room and went upstairs to his bedroom, in which Jack still slept. He closed the curtains with one hand, the other holding his son to him, all the while gently rocking him to sleep.

When the now-sleeping boy had been laid down, Will turned – and started when a figure stepped out of the doorway. The blacksmith relaxed when he saw who it was. "Please don't do that to me, Jack."

"My deepest apologies," replied the pirate graciously, bowing flamboyantly. "However, I feel that now is the time for me onesies to depart from this fine town."

Will's face fell. "You – you're leaving?"

Jack nodded. "'Fraid so, mate. If I stay much longer, I won't be free from arrest, appre'ension and all that other stuff, from Commodore Norrington." His face softened. "Don't get me wrong, lad. I've enjoyed seein' you again, as well as meetin' me namesake – but the sea calls to me. Savvy?"

Will smiled ruefully, then nodded. "I – I understand. Thanks, Jack. I don't know what would have become of me if you hadn't come when you did."

"Yeh'd be six feet under, mate," Jack answered matter-of-factly. "Least I could do." He stepped forward and embraced Will as a father would his son. "You take care now, William Turner. I can assure you that you have _not_ seen the last of _Captain_ Jack Sparrow. By wealth or by stealth, I shall be back. Can't say when, mind, but I _will_ be back." He pulled away, tipped his three-cornered hat at Will as a salute, then walked swiftly from the room. Will went to the window and a few minutes later, a man sauntered away from the house in a unique, swaying walk, a slim black girl at his side. Neither looked back as they made their way to where the _Black Pearl_ was moored. Will smiled as he watched them go. He knew in his heart that he had not seen the last of Captain Jack Sparrow.

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fin

thanks to:

Oneiriad: I like the idea of the _Pearl_ protecting Port Royal, too; I can just see Jack doing something like that.

Lucidity: Will Turner will be fine. Eventually. Thankies a thousand times for being such a loyal reviewer!!

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MagickalStar135: Whoo!!! Thanks for the lovely review! beams Another loyal reader/reviewer/follower!!! Thankies a thousand times!

Lord Elrond of Hogwarts: Thankies a thousand times for being such a devoted follower and reader/reviwewer of my fics! Jack _is_ needed! We have an accord, savvy? ;)

KissTheRainGirl12489: I can't do anything if I have no Internet access, now, can I? Savvy?

Bluekrystal1: I agree! Ickle Jack Turner is very sweet!

The Bonnie Pirate Lass (aka Heavily): you can't have two updates; this is the last chapter! Your reviews are wonderfully heartwarming. And gobsmacking. I must be doing something right to get such amazing reviews from you! Thankies a thousand times, for being so loyal!

Also to Lyn, Inu Lover, Christina13


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